There’s a disconnect in our communications and I’m embarrassed because it feels like my fault.
My fault for being me.
There’s this lack of understanding
an inability to read what’s being said,
what’s being thought,
and it’s my fault.
This is why I hate technology.
I say too much, and then I keep speaking.
I should be silent but I just keep keeping, talk on, sing my song…
Because I’m lonely and I’m starving for communication and friendship,
connection with the world, some sort of kinship,
through the lifeless glow of a computer screen…
Communication is so much harder with a face that can’t be seen.
I am lonely.
I fill the lonely with attempts at communication.
But the endless small talk gives no satiation, except of itself.
I’m done with that self.
The skim top, not cream of the crop, fluff of foam that flutters away when blown because it’s nothing, founded on nothing, I’m done with nothing, and I need something.
So when the disconnect starts and I try to still my heart, from the reaching and depth and my attempt to connect,
when I tell it to stop, to be brief, just a hop
conversation, let the meaning slide,
when I begin and just try to hide
behind curtness of words
and curtness of form,
because I talk too much,
and I say too much,
and I care too much,
and I give too much,
and I am too much
for you –
and I try to stop myself, I will stop myself, but I don’t think that it is really me who
is at fault,
cuz maybe i’m the adult
who actually wants to share,
who actually wants to care,
to actually be there,
more than just the small talk that you see.
I hate technology.